Golden Child
by MelodyAnne
Summary: SARKNEY Sydney has finally reached a new level of happiness in her life. But what if the baby she longed to hold for nine months is the force behind the complete change in the man she loves, and the result of a short lapse in judgment?[COMPLETE]
1. Silver Spoon

**Golden Child** _Sydney has finally reached a new level of happiness in her life: Her first baby. But what if the baby she longed to hold for nine long months is the force behind the complete change in the man she loves, and the result of a brief lapse in judgment?_

Chapter 1: Silver Spoon

Disclaimer #1: I don't, nor did or will I ever, own any aspect of Alias. All recognizable characters and plot strands belong to JJ Abrams, not to me.

Disclaimer #2: The basis for this fic is not mine, either. It originally belonged to Aiden Burn, under the same title. When I pestered her to put skin on the bones of a wonderful fic, she professed to be such a busy little bee she didn't have _time_ to write another fic. Well, I am limited by no such inhibitions, even though at the time of initiation of this project I have three other fics in the works. So, I offered to take it over and run with it _for_ her, and she gave me very strict guidelines and said go for it. So please read and review Aiden Burn's bones before you read the skin, out of gratitude…Hopefully, I can turn her dabble into a decent or better fic.

Disclaimer #3: I'm a die-hard S/V shipper. Please don't shoot me. This fic is Sarkney, and the particular scene Aiden Burn laid out caught my imagination. It was by no fault of my own, the story simply possessed my pen. And my keyboard.

* * *

The man stands, seemingly relaxed, holding binoculars to his eyes as he stares out the window. The hospital across the street sports delightful picture windows, and his girl had always taken a special liking to the outdoors, he recalls fondly. He'd known she would want the blinds raised once the medication wore off and she was herself again. 

She looks remarkably well for a woman who has given birth just a few hours ago, but her resilience is one of the things he loves about her.

Switching his focus to encompass the entire room, he sees her fiancé standing beside her bed, looking extensively proud.

The man scoffs. The fiancé hadn't even been there at the hospital when she'd given birth due to very convenient roadwork on the highway that had been seen to before he himself had taken up his post. And he'll just see who is so proud once that nurse in pink scrubs brings the baby back in.

He squints, trying to focus on the nurse's lips.

Would…like…see…baby now?

The fiancé nods enthusiastically, but the woman's smile is nervous.

The man across the street feels the beginnings of a smile begin to pull at his lips.

Ah, she remembers, he thinks appreciatively.

The nurse leaves and soon returns with a soft blue bundle in her arms. A strange look crosses the fiancé's face as the nurse crosses the room to place the baby in his mother's arms, and her look of anxiety is amplified ten times as her gaze lands on the baby. Her eyes are unconditionally loving, but they hold a fear as she takes in his tiny features.

The fiancé makes no move to stand over the bed now; he stands rooted to the spot where he stands. He recognizes the look in the eyes of the baby's mother for what it is.

The woman shifts slightly, allowing the man to see the baby for the first time. A grin lights across his face, and he revels in the fiancé's anger.

The baby isn't his.

Well **duh. **It doesn't take a genius to work that out.

The smile widens.

Of course he's **hurt**; Michael's crushed.

As the nurse steps out, he moves to stand over her. Not lovingly as he had, but menacingly, accusing her of all the evil he can see held in her arms. She looks up at him in horror.

The man can't hear their words, but he knows she can't lie to him.

He gets a perverse sense of pleasure out of Michael's pain. He'd been so happy at first. It had been so perfect, in hindsight. After Lauren, it would have served him to be a little more suspicious.

* * *

Vaughn, as he storms out the door for fear he'll do something horrible, suspects he knows who the _real_ father is, and it makes him sick with such a bitter, envious rage. 

After all, neither he nor Sydney are blondes.

He walks slowly after a while, through the hospital's winding halls, not sure what he's feeling. Slowly, even more so than he walks, a smothering sensation pervades his consciousness. He needs fresh air, an escape. He needs to get away from the nightmare his life had suddenly dissolved into.

His baby belongs to another man.

It's the middle of LA; Michael knows there is no fresh air to be found. But the stale air he breathes as he shoves open the doors simultaneously chokes him and fuels the fire of the fury growing in his chest. His walk does not quash his anger as he had hoped. In fact, the further he walks the more frustrated he gets.

There are probably miles of hallways in this hospital, he thinks, starting down a staircase when he steps back inside and heading toward the maternity ward. He stops at the nursery window, seeing all the dark haired babies.

Any one of them could have been ours, he thinks, his gaze landing angrily on the one light haired boy amidst several darker haired ones.

A couple walks down the hall, cooing over a beautiful blonde baby boy. As Vaughn watches, their faces morph before his eyes into Sydney's and Sark's. For a moment, all he can see is red, then he feels something snap inside.

Stoically, he turns and makes the walk back to Sydney's room.

Lauren. Sark. Sydney. Now that damn child…

But the prospect of revenge has suddenly made him calm.

He's going to give them what they deserve.

All of them.

* * *

So, what do yall think? This is just the beginning, mind you. I will explain all the questions and fill in the blanks as we go along. I know this is vague, but I told you: this entire chapter is merely putting meat on the bones of someone else's work. I love its vagueness, anyway. So, you know the drill. Read and review, please! 


	2. Mercurial Heart

**Golden Child** _Sydney has finally reached a new level of happiness in her life: Her first baby. But what if the baby she longed to hold for nine long months is the force behind the complete change in the man she loves, and the result of a brief lapse in judgment?_

Chapter 2: Mercurial Heart

Disclaimer #1: I don't, nor did or will I ever, own any aspect of Alias. All recognizable characters and plot strands belong to JJ Abrams, not to me.

Disclaimer #2: The basis for this is not mine, either. It originally belonged to Aiden Burn. See Chapter 1.

Disclaimer #3: I'm a die-hard S/V shipper. Please don't shoot me. This fic _is_ Sarkney, and the particular scene Aiden Burn laid out caught my imagination. It was by no fault of my own, the story simply possessed my pen. And my keyboard.

* * *

Sydney wants desperately to wring her hands, but she knows all her anxiety could be for nothing. Sure, there's a chance. For whatever reason, her equilibrium was shot all to hell during the week of conception. The baby could be Vaughn's, and she'll never have to tell him about Sark. No one might ever know about that two-day long lapse in judgment. 

The middle-aged nurse returns with the baby wrapped in soft blue blankets. Sydney looks anxiously toward them, oblivious to all else. As the woman lays the baby in her arms, she studies his tiny face.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" the nurse asks with a smile, her pen poised over the birth certificate.

Sydney barely hears her, and does not respond. All she can do is stare at the child in her arms, and love him, and see all of her worst fears confirmed in his lovely features.

"Julian," she murmurs, an unnatural tone of fear in her tiny voice.

Vaughn does not hear her, but the nurse does. She scribbles away, putting damning evidence down on paper.

"And how about a middle name?" the nurse asks cheerfully. Gradually she becomes aware of the level of tension in the small room. She sees the look on Vaughn's face and turns away to gather her papers. "May be we should finish this later, let you rest up a bit more," she says over her shoulder as she walks out.

Vaughn suddenly strides silently across the room and stands over her. His expression is strange, and she almost fears him. She holds the baby a little closer to her chest.

"That _child_," he spits angrily. "He's not mine." His expression is dark now.

Sydney shrinks against the pillows that only moments before Vaughn had stacked lovingly behind her.

"No," she says softly, dropping her eyes.

Vaughn gives a low growl and turns to stalk away.

Sydney fights back tears for a moment before she regains control. She realized that her actions have already been committed, and there is nothing more she can do than to love the child in her arms. With luck, she hopes, Vaughn will come to love her son as his own. Perhaps even one day forgive her transgressions.

By the time the nurse returns for her to fill in the missing information on the baby's birth certificate, Sydney is resigned to the truth. She answers almost automatically.

"Your full name, please."

"Sydney Anne Bristow."

"And have you decided the baby's middle name?"

"Middle?"

"You said the first name was Julian, correct, Miss Bristow?"

Sydney pauses, trying to convince herself that it is the stupidest thing in the world to do to name the child Julian. Vaughn may not know yet who his father is, but he will find out. But would it be wise to put it right under his nose like this?

"Tyler," she says finally. His name is Tyler Julian Bristow."

"All right. We can do that. And what is his father's name?"

When Sydney hesitates, she asks again.

Sydney closes her eyes, as if the thought and all the memories that come with it pain her to a great extent. The nurse sees this, and, being a mother of three herself with a husband of twenty some odd years, she cannot understand how a mother can be this reluctant to disclose information.

"His father's name is Julian Sark."

* * *

Having seen Michael Vaughn storm angrily from Sydney's room, and despite his personal pleasure at beating Vaughn out for something he'd so desperately wanted, Sark worries for Sydney's and his son's safety. He sees something different in Vaughn's demeanor, something distinctly disturbing to one's peace of mind. 

After a brief detour into a supply room for a universal disguise of green scrubs, a matching cloth cap, and a mask, Sark follows Vaughn. He sees him stop at the nursery window and throw a hateful look at the baby.

Walking up and down the maternity ward hall at intervals, Sark sees Vaughn glare furiously at Sydney as she sinks into her pillows. He walks by again just as a nurse is bringing the baby in his blanket-lines plastic basinet back to be with his mother. He stops once to pick up the file from its slot over the door. _Tyler Julian Bristow. _He decides the name has a nice ring to it. But it makes Sark nervous to see the odd look in Vaughn's eyes when he's so close to baby Julian.

When Vaughn walks out again, Sark overhears him saying he's going for coffee.

Now or never, Julian thinks, walking in the door as he watches Vaughn's back more down the hallway. He watches Sydney look up in surprise when she hears him before he speaks, and he knows the exact moment when she recognizes the eyes behind the mask. Her pupils widen, and the smile she wore as long as she watched her new son fades, and her arms tighten almost imperceptibly

Sark holds up his hands in surrender.

"I'm not here for the baby," he says, unable to withhold a knowing smile along with a certain amount of pride in his voice. "I want to warn you. I think there's a chance your Michael Vaughn is an unstable character right now. I'm only asking you to be careful around him."

Sydney stares at him for a long time without answering, telling herself she has no reason to trust the man standing patiently at the foot of her bed, but for some reason she cannot bring herself to simply tell him to stay away. Despite every one of at least a dozen reasons why she should hate him, she can't just dismiss his warning.

Sark seems so intent on her answer that Vaughn is back in the room before he notices.

As Sark slips out, keeping his back to Vaughn, he thinks he sees Sydney nod her head just once.

* * *

Sydney studies the sleeping face of her new baby boy, but her mind doesn't see what her eyes do. Her mind runs in circle and trips over itself in an effort to figure out what Sark could possibly stand to gain by showing up now. She can't believe he risked coming near her now, when, in theory, Vaughn would fight the hardest to protect her. 

But perhaps he was watching more closely than she anticipated. Obviously he saw something to know that Vaughn scares her right now, or perhaps he even saw something that genuinely bothers him too. After all, Sark walked right past Michael and he never even noticed. The man she loves and that loves her so dearly would never allow Julian Sark to walk out of her room without noticing.

Sydney is beginning to wonder if she should take Sark's warning seriously. She is far from forgetting how badly Sark betrayed her, the result of his betrayal being the tiny child she holds in her arms, but she can't understand how Vaughn can be so angry with her that he doesn't even notice Julian in the room.

Sydney shifts the child to allow him to nurse. At the time, she was swept up in a certain something about Julian. He was different. She almost believed…

But he is still Sark. Not the Julian she knew for such a brief time.

* * *

Vaughn eyes the coffee machine in the hospital cafeteria for a long minute, not sure why his thoughts don't scare him. He can almost see himself dump some harmful substance into a squat Styrofoam cup. But poisoning her coffee would be a ridiculous thing to do. 

A part of him wants to see Sydney suffer for what she's done. That baby should be _his_, but that son of a bitch got to her. And worse of all she'd _let_ him!

A plan is slowly taking shape in Michael's mind. Smother the bastard of a baby. The child shouldn't exist. He'll do it while Sydney is still weak, too weak to resist. He'll have to do it soon. May be he will get the doctors to give her something for pain, play the loving fiancé

He grins.

Yes, Sydney will pay for her mistake.

* * *

Hm-hmm! Michael plotting Sydney's murder, Sark trying to save her…what the hell's going on around here? lol 


	3. Brass Knuckles

**Golden Child** _Sydney has finally reached a new level of happiness in her life: Her first baby. But what if the baby she longed to hold for nine long months is the force behind the complete change in the man she loves, and the result of a brief lapse in judgment?_

Chapter 3: Brass Knuckles

Disclaimer #1: I don't, nor did or will I ever, own any aspect of Alias. All recognizable characters and plot strands belong to JJ Abrams, not to me.

Disclaimer #2: The basis for this is not mine, either. It originally belonged to Aiden Burn. See Chapter 1.

Disclaimer #3: I'm a die-hard S/V shipper. Please don't shoot me. This fic _is_ Sarkney, and the particular scene Aiden Burn laid out caught my imagination. It was by no fault of my own, the story simply possessed my pen. And my keyboard.

* * *

He sees Vaughn leave the room, presumably for a snack. It is getting dark outside, long shadows stretching ominously across the room from the westward window. This time he removes the surgical mask as he enters the room, hoping to relate a lack of desire to fool her anymore. 

Her voice is low, almost inaudible as she speaks.

"You shouldn't be here, Julian."

"Shouldn't I?" he asks, a proud smile crossing his face as he looks down at the tiny baby in his blanket lined plastic bed, waving his arms around. He looks back to Sydney. "He's mine."

"Don't you dare…" Sydney begins, looking ready to jump out of bed and pummel him.

"I'm sorry," Sark says, a genuine apology in his voice that stills Sydney's fury into confusion. "I didn't mean to imply that I stake a claim to the child. I meant my fatherhood only as a biological fact." A quick glance at the squirming child, and Sark makes a snap decision, choosing not to analyze the origins of it. "May I hold him?"

"What?" Sydney snarls, hardly believing what she's hearing.

"May I hold him," Sark says again, looking directly at her and making no move toward the baby.

Sydney softens after a moment, unsure if it's because of Sark's unthreatening demeanor or because of some misplaced desire to see him love the child he fathered.

"You will anyway," she says, leaning back against her pillows and trying to maintain a surly demeanor of her own.

Sark takes this as the closest thing to a "yes" as he's going to get and leans over the plastic basinet.

"Hello, Jules," Sark says softly, surprising even himself. "Do you know who I am?" he asks as he carefully picks up the tiny child and cradles him close to his chest. "I'm your daddy."

"You're his _father_," Sydney snaps. "There's a difference." Her eyes are fierce. Sark has an urge to cringe; he doesn't want Sydney to feel this way.

"Understood," Sark says. He wishes to say more, but he hears Vaughn in the hall. He doesn't care to run the risk of Vaughn finding him in the room, let alone holding the baby. "Take care of him, Sydney," he says, laying the child protectively in her arms instead of back in his bed.

Then he slips the mask back on and strides out of the room as if he has a purpose and a specific destination in mind.

* * *

Sydney awakes from a light sleep and at first pass her mouth feels dry. Her eyes blink open as she realizes her hands are tied together with a spare piece of plastic tubing. She sees Vaughn and calls out to him in panic. 

"Mmmph!"

With a start she realizes she's been gagged. Someone's trying to kill her, may be even her baby. But Vaughn never turns around from his position over the baby's bed.

But that's wrong. Why is she gagged and tied? Why is Vaughn standing over baby Julian _now_?

Even as the thoughts run through Sydney's mind, Vaughn turns his head to look at her over his shoulder, and she sees a pillow in his hand. She watches in horror as he presses the pillow into her baby's bed.

"Mmmmfuh!" she cries, scrambling to get up and discovering her ankles are tied in the same manner as her hands. Normally, the binds would be easy work for her, but Sydney quickly finds that the lingering effects of pain medicine makes working one's fingers in a hurry doesn't come easy.

Tears stream down her face and she chokes on the wash cloth in her mouth as the sobs rack her body.

No, no, no, she thinks, moving her head from side to side helplessly as her body begins to shake, betraying her.

He can't breathe, she thinks, rocking back and forth. _He'll die…He's killing him…_

, she thinks, rocking back and forth. 

And then Vaughn is falling. Sydney sees Sark hit him, the blow catching him under the chin and snapping his head back as he falls. The expression on Sark's face in unlike anything she's seen from him before.

Sark lands a single knockout punch with a strength born of an attachment he didn't know himself capable of.

With a quick stoop to check that the baby is okay, though upset, Sark moves to untie Sydney.

"Feel like a walk?" he asks, looking over his shoulder with a hurried intensity and pulling the gag from her mouth.

"My baby," she gasps, pulling away from Sark's attempts to free her. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Sark says, leaving Sydney to untie her ankles while he carefully bundles the baby up and pulls him from his bed.

"What are you doing? Stop! Don't touch him!" Sydney cries, shakily pushing herself to her feet in protest.

Sark cradles their baby in his arms and looks at her for a moment, pining her in place with steely eyes.

"You're barely able to stand on your own," Sark says finally. "I'll carry our son. Can you walk?"

Sydney pauses at Sark's matter-of-fact tone.

"I haven't forgotten what you did to me," she says finally, her eyes narrowing. "Don't believe for one second that I trust you now. But I know when to accept help, and, for whatever reason, I believe you're the only one offering to help me at the moment." Her voice carries a note of defeat, and Sark wonders if her speech is merely to buy time for her legs to quit shaking so violently.

* * *

His head is pounding. Or, more specifically, one side of his jaw hurts like hell, and he has a lump on the back of his head he figures is roughly the color of an eggplant. 

"Aw, damn!" Vaughn shoots to his feet, remembering how he wound up on the floor and seeing no one in the room now. How long has he been out?

He is furious now, his desire to punish the bitch who had Sark's baby even greater. Because after being slugged in the jaw by one and the same, he has no doubt that the bastard is the father.

Vaughn cannot believe Sark dared to come near _his_ fiancé. Near _him_. Near the child that by all rights _should_ be his.

Vaughn will make them both pay now. Sark thought he did a number on him to get Lauren's location? Wait until he gets a hold of that bastard now! And that baby…that baby will be the first to go, so that they can _both_ see it.

* * *

I'm even intrigued by Vaughn's complete breakdown, and I'm writing it! Lol. I'm enjoying this, I don't know why, but review, please! I'll worry about my runaway plot bunnies later… 


	4. Copper Penny

**Golden Child** _Sydney has finally reached a new level of happiness in her life: Her first baby. But what if the baby she longed to hold for nine long months is the force behind the complete change in the man she loves, and the result of a brief lapse in judgment?_

Chapter 4: Copper Penny

Disclaimer #1: I don't, nor did or will I ever, own any aspect of Alias. All recognizable characters and plot strands belong to JJ Abrams, not to me.

Disclaimer #2: The basis for this is not mine, either. It originally belonged to Aiden Burn. See Chapter 1.

Disclaimer #3: I'm a die-hard S/V shipper. Please don't shoot me. This fic _is_ Sarkney, and the particular scene Aiden Burn laid out caught my imagination. It was by no fault of my own, the story simply possessed my pen. And my keyboard.

A/N: Anders122, this is sort of loosely placed somewhere after season three. And I do mean loosely. I had no real time frame in mind when writing. I guess it's completely AU aside from the little things I used that ground it as being after season three.

* * *

Sydney's eyes roam the room restlessly, seeking out every mode of entry, exit, and everything in between. She holds baby Julian close to her chest. The small room that serves the hospital as a visitor's lounge serves them well enough as a hide away for her to rest for a while. Sark herded her in here over an hour ago, locking the door carefully behind them and settling Sydney on the floor out of view of the thin window in the door before handing her Julian. She still can't decide how far she can trust Sark. 

They sit in silence for long minutes, neither sure what can be said. Both know what occurred the last time they were on the same side; the result lies sleeping in his mother's arms.

"Shh, Jay," Sydney murmurs when Julian grows restless. "Mommy's right here," she whispers lovingly.

The baby continues to make small noises until he finally lets loose a sound closely akin to a howl. Sydney bounces and jiggles him, but looks at Sark warily.

"What is it?" he asks, looking at the child and scooting closer to her in concern. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's…he's hungry," Sydney says uncertainly.

Sark's face actually reddens as he pushes to his feet to stand with his back to her.

"Don't let me stop you," he says quickly.

"No. I don't trust you," Sydney says disbelievingly. "I'm not nursing him now."

Sark spins, a reluctant expression in his eyes.

"Sydney, if someone hears a baby crying behind a locked door, then hiding in here isn't very effective any more, is it?" he asks.

Sydney gives Sark a look fit to kill, but resignedly unties the lacing holding the top of her gown together. Julian quiets almost instantly, but in such close quarters Sark can still hear the suckling noises he makes from the other side of the room. Sydney's face reddens, but she knows there is nothing she can do.

Several long minutes stretch out, the only sounds in the room coming from the baby nursing. Then the door handle rattles.

Sydney jumps and a gasp escapes her lips. She lumbers stiffly to her feet, jarring Julian in the process; he begins to cry again.

"Who's there? Is it Vaughn?" Sydney mouths in a panic.

Sark puts a finger to his lips, then gestures at the baby. Sydney just shrugs.

"I can't help it," she says softly, fear lacing her voice and causing it to shake.

Suddenly, they hear a faint clicking noise, and, looking down, Sydney sees the center of the lock on the door jiggle slightly.

"Oh sh-…crap!" Sydney hisses. "Julian," she says automatically. "He's picking the lock!"

Sark snags her wrist and pulls her forward another door.

"I know. I see. Come on," he says, seeing her chewing her bottom lip.

He turns the handle, but the door doesn't open.

"It's locked!" Sydney cries, hugging her baby to her chest in fear.

Sark silently pulls a long, thin case from his back pocket.

"Hold this," he says simply, handing her the case as he pulls out two thin rods and begins to fiddle with the lock.

"Julian, he's almost got it," she says, her voice rising in pitch.

"So do I," Sark says calmly, hoping to keep Sydney calm as well. He's never seen her not completely in control, not even in their time together. "Got it," he says sharply, shoving the door open and pulling Sydney through. He barely closes the door behind them before he hears Vaughn slam the door in against the wall. He doesn't have to wonder if she heard it too; the tiny whimper that escapes her is the only answer he needs.

They are in a huge file room. Sark leads her up one aisle, across, down another, but he finds no door out of the room. Vaughn is opening the door, a savage growl escaping his throat. Sydney smothers a horrified cry, instead only uttering a tiny frightened moan.

"You'll pay, bitch!" Vaughn yells.

To Sark's surprise he feels Sydney's hand at his back, pressing closer to him for protection. He reaches back and takes her hand, pulling her closely behind him as they thread up and down the aisles.

At one point, Sark looks back over his shoulder and sees tears in Sydney's eyes. It is not fear that fuels them but the very definite realization that Vaughn has lost his mind. Gone mad. He is bona fide crazy. And she believes it's all her fault. Sydney wonders why Sark is doing this, even as some part of her mind still registers the danger she's in, unable to do much in way of self-defense.

Suddenly, there is a door. Where was she? Snapping out of whatever panic filled fog she was in, Sydney follows Sark through the door with Julian held tightly in one arm. Her other hand was…

"Shit," she mutters, barely audible.

Sark feels her stumble slightly as she snatches her hand from his, but he says nothing as she puts the hand on the baby to hold him more securely. She seems to have gotten herself back in check, and she keeps up as he leads her through several more doors and across the hall to an empty room.

"We can't stay in this hospital," Sark says, his voice so low she can barely hear him as he moves around the room nervously.

"And where the hell do you propose I go?" Sydney snaps, still angry from discovering her hand held tightly in his. "I hate this, but I can't do it. I have nowhere to go that he won't find me. He knows me too well, Julian. And I know well enough that I can only take three, may be four more hours like this before I am _through_."

Sark shocks her by stepping directly in front of her and grabbing her by the shoulders as he would have grabbed her hands were they free.

"Sydney, I need you to trust me again," he says urgently, making his accent all the more pronounced. "For our baby if not for yourself. I have a car nearby…"

"I have no clothes. They're all in the room, and clearly I can't go back there," Sydney says resentfully. "Do you honestly believe no one will question a woman in patient attire walking out with a newborn baby?" Her eyes glower out at him like hot coals through the pasty fatigue already claiming her features.

Sark grins, but quickly sobers.

"Sydney, do you believe we can't get out without being see? I will get you clothes, whatever you need. Sydney, please. I need you to trust me…_for the baby._"

* * *

They have been driving. Endless, worry filled hours of checking rearview mirrors, going in circles to lose tails they may not see or to draw them out. 

Baby Julian is nursing again, but Sark is getting used to the soft noises he makes. He sees the exhaustion clearly splayed across Sydney's every feature. He watches from the corner of his eye as she twice nods off, her chin touching her chest before jerking awake. Her moments of complete panic following her regained consciousness are evidence enough to her emotional confusion as well.

Sydney sighs as she lays Julian in her lap and rebuttons the cheap blue jean blouse Sark had produced from a dollar store near the hospital.

"I believed you could change nine months ago," she says plaintively, leaning her head back and closing her eyes wearily. "I know now how you used me. That you were only trying to distract me long enough for your associates to raid my employer's offices for that damned Rambaldi manuscript. It meant nothing to you," she says, defeat in her voice.

After a moment, Sark shakes his head in disbelief.

"How can I answer to charges like that, Sydney? If I answer as quickly and surely as I would like to, you'll instantly be assured that I'm lying now as I lied to you then. Regardless of my words, they all sound the same to you."

* * *

Lemme see if I got my point across in Sark's little speech there. Translate it from Sark-ese, if you will. It'd be really helpful if you would when you REVIEW. 


	5. Lead Pipe

**Golden Child** _Sydney has finally reached a new level of happiness in her life: Her first baby. But what if the baby she longed to hold for nine long months is the force behind the complete change in the man she loves, and the result of a brief lapse in judgment?_

Chapter 5: Lead Pipe

Disclaimer #1: I don't, nor did or will I ever, own any aspect of Alias. All recognizable characters and plot strands belong to JJ Abrams, not to me.

Disclaimer #2: The basis for this is not mine, either. It originally belonged to Aiden Burn. See Chapter 1.

Disclaimer #3: I'm a die-hard S/V shipper. Please don't shoot me. This fic _is_ Sarkney, and the particular scene Aiden Burn laid out caught my imagination. It was by no fault of my own, the story simply possessed my pen. And my keyboard.

A/N: LivingArtemis, my plot has it set up so that Syd just had a baby. The fact that Sark is "running away" is dependant on the fact that he'd trying to protect Sydney…Not that he's afraid of Vaughn. Besides, Sark's always acting in his own best interests…why would it be too out of character for him to keep a clear distance between himself and someone who clearly would kill him on sight? And just stay tooned…I reveal other interests of his that apply later on, too…

* * *

Vaughn drives relentlessly, stopping only to fill his car up with gas. He has no idea where he's going; he doesn't care. He only knows that, at his very core, he needs to find Sydney and Sark and the child she named for him. 

A crazed look claims his dark green eyes, but he is calmer now. More reflective than actively furious.

He will make Sydney and Sark pay _after_ he gets rid of their child. The child that should have been his. But that bastard Sark had gotten to her first.

Vaughn lost his father before he ever had a chance to know him. For months, ever since he found Sydney was pregnant, he'd dreamed of being so much more to his son…

He knew that Sydney had been involved with Sark nine months ago, that he'd distracted her for his own purposes, and that it had all ended in a gunfight. He never knew details; she'd never been able to talk about it. She'd been noticeably odd for weeks after returning from the tiny Argentinean town where she went to locate Sark's base of operations.

Apparently she found it.

His own thoughts ring of a disappointed desperation.

* * *

She remembers. 

She walked into the room, feeling more alive than ever before. No other man had ever made her feel that way, not even Vaughn. For the moment, she allowed herself to be fooled into thinking that it could go on forever like this, that it never had to end. She knew it would hurt all the more when it did if she allowed herself to surrender to the moment he created, to savor the time she had with him, but she didn't care. She'd never felt so alive, never felt anything this close to the emotional high she'd felt on a dangerous mission from which she might not return.

He waited for her, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tie thrown carelessly across a chair. As he watched her, a devilish grin crossed his face, making him appear at once completely at ease and quit mischievous.

Not mutually exclusive_, she mused. _

Going straight to him as he knew she would, she tugged his shirt from the waist of his pants as he pushed the straps of her snug red dress from her shoulders and, after thoroughly plundering her lips, kissing his way down her neck and across her shoulders.

She continued to clumsily work at the buttons on his shirt, each of them thoughtlessly removing the other's clothes until they fell onto the perfectly made bed, clad in nothing but the other's arms…

Sydney wakes with a start, at first unsure where she is. She looks to her left and sees Sark at the wheel, and for the briefest of moments she thinks that perhaps it never _did_ end. That her return to LA and the CIA and Vaughn was all a dream.

But then she feels the weight of her son on her lap, and knows that she would not trade her time with Vaughn for the dream her life with Julian Sark will always have been.

* * *

"How many times do I have to tell you, Julian? I do not trust you. Not any more, not ever again." 

Sydney's voice rises in anger, but there is also a boredom of telling him over and over.

Reaching the end of the driveway and pulling the car into the well kept barn next to the house, Sark calmly put the car in PARK.

"You're exhausted, Sydney. You can't run by yourself right now and take care of the baby too. I'm asking you to take what I'm offering: A chance to regain your strength without constantly having to worry about protecting yourself." Sark's words are just a little too eager. Sydney wonders if he could possibly be so eager to help her, or if she's walking into a trap. If it's the latter, she doesn't stand a chance once she walks into that house.

Not that she stands a chance of running now if that's the case. Suppressing a sigh, Sydney knows that if Julian was bluffing up to this point, she's as good as dead anyway.

"My baby is my first priority," she says, not revealing her internal battle in the decisive crispness of her words.

Sark gives an unseemly snort, as if he can't believe she will still assert her distrust of him so insistently.

"Whom you named Tyler Julian Bristow," he says with no more decorum. "And you put my name on the birth certificate."

Sydney stares hard at Sark for full minutes before she looks away, at the child sleeping in her lap. When she looks back, all of her training in the enemy from seeing how he effects her flies out the window. The mask is gone, and all Sark sees is shyness and hesitation.

"I, uh...I knew it was true," she says finally, unexpectedly answering his question.

A sudden, unbidden image fills Sark's mind at Sydney's utter honesty, not just of her simple words but of her expression. For one brief moment, she was hiding nothing of herself from him, and he sees them as a family, with Sydney as his wife and the two of them raising their son together.

"Sydney, you know, deep in your heart, that I will not hurt you or our baby. _Let me help you,_" he says, a gentleness he's never heard before finding a place in his voice.

Sydney eyes narrow, but her expression still lacks the complete guardedness she always displayed.

"If this were all a plot to remove me from the game forever this time, getting me inside that house and on your turf would be the best strategically move you could make," Sydney says, waiting for his reaction.

"And I know that is why such a leap of faith in my case is so impossible for you," Sark acknowledges, practically holding his breath.

Sydney takes several beats more to debate with herself, but exhaustion must win out.

"I'll stay," she says on a sigh.

Sark breaks out in a huge grin that confuses him as much as it does Sydney.

"But I'm locking my door."

"Understood," Sark argues happily.

May be we can_ be a family…May be I _can_ change for her…_

cancan 

"And I'm leaving in the morning," she adds, her eyes narrowing even more at Sark's clear state of joy. Something that, like most real human emotions, she can't reconcile with the Julian Sark she encountered back when SD-6 was still around.

But she climbs from the car, and see Sark look over with genuine concern when Julian is startled from his nap.

* * *

That's it. That's the end. Comments, questions, creative criticism? Non-flaming reviews are appreciated… 


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